Filial Piety
by Luna Sealeaf
Summary: AU: An unknown figure from one of the crew’s past has come to seek a revenge…
1. Part 1

Disclaimer: I do not own any of Andromeda's characters; if I did, would I be writing fanfiction? I think not. It all belongs to Tribune…or some sort of tv company thing. Anyway, it's not mine. This is written purely for entertainment. Enjoy.

Filial Piety

Part 1

_The woman was not human, but this fact had never bothered her. She looked human; she smelled, felt, and tasted like a human. A human woman. _

_What she was, exactly, even she did not know. It was enough for her that she enjoyed life; her greatest pleasure and amusement came from tormenting human men, who were drawn to her beauty the way flies were to intoxicating-and, to them, deadly- drinks. She relished the power she had over them, and most of the time they even enjoyed it. Only sometimes, when the mood struck her, she found it much, much, more entertaining to ruin a man's life; to grind him down like so much dirt beneath her feet._

_And she felt just such a mood strike her as the young, skinny blonde man –hardly more than a boy, not that it mattered to her- tumbled into her arms, as drunk from her kisses as he was from the many glasses of beer she'd bought for him. _

_He was exactly the type she loved to destroy; alone and seemingly friendless, he was weak and utterly naïve, as far as she could tell. _

_They were awakened by a loud knocking on the door. She slid out of the bed, not bothering to cover herself, and upon opening the door found herself face to face with an angry, tall woman, whose red hair seemed to crackle with emotion._

_"Looking for him?" she felt a sense of glee as she jerked a finger at the sleeping boy she'd left on the bed. The woman, no doubt his lover, was too angry for words, and as she stormed into the room, the woman slipped out with a malicious smile on her face as she anticipated the fun of making the boy's life as miserable as she could. Her power, that even she did not fully understand, had grasped him; he was, effectively, a spy caught in her web and just as doomed._

_What happened instead was something she had anticipated, especially with a weak stripling like _him

_She became pregnant. _

_Seefra 1-the Present_

Twelve years, in his timeline anyway, after he'd hitched a ride off of Earth, Seamus Harper was busy serving drinks in a run down 'saloon' on a desolate planet. The only company he had, at the moment, was his faithful friend –and AI- Doyle. They chatted as he cleaned glasses; she enjoyed hearing his stories of his days and adventures aboard the Andromeda Ascendant.

"So, Trance turned golden before or after you built the machine to take out the Magog larvae?" She asked with an amused smile. Harper paused, giving a slight frown.

"Well, it was sort of after I built the machine, but before the larvae was taken out. Er, temporal mechanics and all that…" He said vaguely with an apologetic shrug. They were silent for a moment, and Doyle studied him with curious eyes.

"What did you do before you lived on the Andromeda, Harper? You don't talk about that time very often."

"I was with Beka, on the Eureka Maru," He explained, which was, of course, no explanation at all. Doyle frowned and leaned forward.

"I know that Harper, I meant, before then. Where were you born? What was your family like?" Harper set the glass he'd been drying on the counter and was still, as though collecting his thoughts. Finally he shrugged.

"They're dead, Doyle, that's why I left." He said it matter-of-factly, but he did not meet his gaze, and this, she had learned, meant that he was uncomfortable with the subject they were discussing.

"You don't have any family left at all?" She asked incredulously. Harper flashed her a dashing smile.

"Nope, you're the only family I got left Doyle, you and- well, you're all I need." He finished quickly. Turning, he carried a tray of clean glasses and went to put them away. Doyle watched his retreating back with something akin to sadness on her face. She knew what he had been going to say: 'You and Beka and the others.' But he had stopped. Something in his relationship with them had changed and become uncertain.

_Three years, _she thought, _is a long time for a human to believe everyone he knows and loves is dead. _

_Somewhere in the Andromeda Galaxy…twelve years ago_

It took her a long time to find a planet suitable for raising her child. She finally chose a backward, archaic world where technology had just enough influence for people to know and understand it; though as it was a planet largely used for farming, and little technology was needed or wanted.

She did not mind the isolation from the rest of the galaxy; she had a new project, a different game, to play. This one did not require meetings with strange men each night. No; she would live by herself, alone, except for the child. Her child; her son.

A small but comfortable hut became her home; it was just outside a small village, where the people regarded her as something of a witch, and she did nothing to dissuade them of their superstition. The baby was easy enough to care for; she merely had to feed it and clean it once in awhile and it thrived. When she tired of it, she would explore her powers for amusement. Tales of strange lights and beasts added to the villagers' fear of her, which she found entertaining.

As it grew, it occurred to her that it, he, needed a name. A name suitable for a human boy with no father. She remembered, vaguely, that the boy –the father- had mumbled something about a planet he was from. It took some hours of meditation to remember that quickly-forgotten fact, but at last she recalled it. Earth. The name had little meaning to her, so she spent a day or two researching the planet, a delicious idea entering her head. She decided she wanted a name that might mean something to the father, when the time came for him to learn of his son. She delved into her power to learn the name of the father, its origin; it's meaning. She was not sure how she was able to know these things, but she finally found the perfect name. It even came from the same language, or close enough, as the father's. By the time she chose it, the child could almost walk and talk. It called her 'Lady Mother', or sometimes just 'Mother' and at last she could call it something in return.

"Keary. You shall be my Keary; and if your father does not know the name or its origin, then you shall explain it to him, before you kill him." The child wriggled in her arms and she held it tighter, knowing that she could easily force the life out of such a small, fragile body. But she let it go; knowing also that the wait would be worth the trouble of holding herself back and keeping it alive. A smile, the first genuine one she'd worn in months, crept over her face. The child, upon seeing it, dissolved into a fit of crying that was soothed when she gently held it in her arms.

"Hush small one, you have nothing to fear from me. Not yet." She promised him.

The years passed by quickly; time was something she rarely kept track of, and her days were spent teaching the child, Keary. Although small, he was strong and she began training him with every manner of weapons. She concentrated mainly on daggers and the sword, for she did not want the boy's father to die from a mere gun shot wound. Nothing that quick or bloodless.

However, she told him nothing of his father or the mission for which she was grooming him, until one day when he came back from the village, bloody and bruised. Too proud to cry, or too afraid to risk her wrath at seeing him cry, the pain of his injuries could only be seen from the pinched look on his pale young face.

"Why did they beat you?" She asked him harshly when he returned.

"They threw stones at me, Mother, and said I was a witch's bastard. They said I had no father and that I was evil." She said nothing, only watching him with a hard look on her face.

"I hate it here! I hate all of them! Why can we not leave, Mother? Can't we go somewhere else? And –and why don't I have a father?" Longing and frustration filled his young eyes, which were blue, the only obvious feature of his that did not belong to her, and she allowed herself to look sympathetic and sad.

"Come here, Keary," She knelt and held out her arms. Nervously, for she rarely embraced him, he stepped closer and allowed her arms to enfold him, one hand stroking his coal black curls.

"Your father is the reason why we must remain. He has cursed us, so that despite all my power we are stuck here, where the both of us are feared and hated." She had sensed the perfect opportunity to introduce the game; and she knew she had to handle this with no mistakes, or risk having all those years of work wasted.

"But why does he hate us? What have we done to him?" Keary pulled himself away so he could look into her face. She gave a dramatic sigh and brushed the curls away from his face.

"Oh my poor boy, I had hoped to spare you, but I suppose you have a right to know. The man whom you call father is a terrible, evil person. He never wanted a child, but I would not let him kill you, so instead he trapped us here. I think he even watches us now, to make sure that we shall never be left in peace."

The boy's eyes were wide and solemn.

"What are you going to do? How can we stop him?" With a feeling of glee, she smothered a smile.

"Not 'we', my darling, but you. You shall one day stop him; I am gathering my power, and one day I will be able to send you to him." She held her breath. Those innocent blue eyes filled with curiosity.

"Why? What am I to do?"

"You must kill him. When you are strong enough, and you kill him, we will be free, and happy. Will you do this for me, my pet?" Her hands were stroking his cheek now, her hypnotic eyes held his.

"Yes Mother; but when will I be strong enough?"

"Soon; soon you shall be ready." She embraced him and kissed his forehead. "But it is late and you are tired; go and wash the blood from your face and know that someday, you will be able to fight them, all of them, and win." Hunger was etched on his face and as he left her arms, she smiled in triumph.

It was some time after that, many years later, that she awoke, screaming in pain. She saw nothing but a red haze; there was a sharp pain in her abdomen, the sound of her voice was harsh and shrill, inhuman as so little else about her seemed to be. There had been a wound in her that had barely been noticeable by the time Keary could walk and talk; as he grew, the pain grew, and she knew not why. Was it because of the father? Her link through the child allowed her to sense when the father was feeling strong, when he was weak, afraid, happy, and something else –she did not think it was the link through the child for that was not strong enough- but something else had enough power that it also shed light on the father's whereabouts.

But she did not think it was either of these that caused her pain. No; she knew, somehow, it was the boy himself. The accursed child that killed her, slowly, without knowing it. _No, not kill! I will not die from this!_ And she sensed the boy in front of her, screaming her name, begging her to answer him and tell him what was wrong. The pain took hold of her and she reached out, nails clawing at his face; he, the source of her agony. She would end it, end this unbearable pain.

When she awoke she was covered in dried blood. It was not her own. Cursing, she stood and looked down on the still, pale form of the boy; he was covered in his own blood. At first she feared he was dead, feared that all those years had been wasted after all. But she sensed a hairsbreadth of life in him and she knelt, hands over his chest, to restore him.

Gentleness did not come to her naturally, and she had no strength with which to dampen her efforts. Ruthlessly she forced her power into him until he awoke, screaming in agonizing pain; and still, she poured power into him, to be sure and leave no mark upon his skin. Someday he would be beautiful and she had no mind to ruin such promising features, at least not until she was finished with him. Heedless of his pleas for her to stop, ignoring his writhing form on the ground, she continued until he was completely whole –physically- once more. And felt, strangely enough, the better for it herself.

When he wept, begging her to explain what had happened; she blamed it on his father, the source of all their troubles.

"When you kill him I promise you neither of us will ever have to feel such pain again."

And she forced herself to take him into her arms and hold him while he cried, holding back her impatience. As he cursed his father she suddenly knew that her work was almost done. Soon, soon the game could commence as she'd planned for all these years…

_Seefra 1-the Present_

"Good morning Trance, can I get you anything?" Harper greeted his friend with a cheery smile and bright voice. She returned the smile and took a seat at the bar in front of him.

"No thank you Harper, I'm not thirsty. Guess not many people are?" A glance around the empty room answered her question.

"Ah well, just wait til afternoon; when it's hot, the people come in droves." He stated optimistically.

"You know Harper…Andromeda's been asking about you." Trance tried to sound nonchalant but failed despite her effort. A pale red crept up Harper's neck.

"Really? That's –that's interesting. Tell her I said hi."

"The others were asking about you, I told them you were probably busy but…" she raised her eyebrows and gave a small shrug.

"Look Trance I appreciate the reaching-out, let's-all-hug thing, but I'm gonna be here awhile, so you might as well go back." Harper tried to sound carefree but he couldn't meet her eyes, thus ruining his attempt.

"We're just worried about you Harper. You haven't been around much."

"Yes I have," Harper insisted.

"No you haven't." Trance contradicted.

"Yeah, I have."

"No you haven't." Realizing how futile it was to continue with the new childlike Trance in this manner, Harper sighed and said instead,

"Ok, so maybe I haven't been around much lately, but it's not because of you guys. There's nothing wrong, I've just been doing a lot of thinking."

"You're always thinking Harper, and usually your thoughts get you into trouble." For a moment, as she spoke, she sounded like the old Golden Trance Harper had known. He looked up at her, hoping for a split second- but her gaze was wide-eyed and innocent, another person.

"You're probably right. Just tell the others that I'm fine, I'll see you later Trance." Taking the hint, she stood up and then suddenly leaned over to plant a kiss on his cheek. Startled, Harper stared at her. With a playful grin Trance hopped out of the bar and into the sunny morning.

He had to take a minute to shake himself out of his reverie. To be honest, he had lied to Trance. He wasn't fine. Lately he had been having dreams; dreams of when he'd first arrived on Seefra, scared, confused, and ultimately alone. Alone as he hadn't been since before he'd met Beka. These nightmares were unlike any he'd ever experienced before. They frightened him beyond measure.

Unlike some men, he'd always wanted a family. On earth it was the basic unit of society as well as survival. Strength in numbers, and all that. To date his efforts in finding a wife, having a family and basically settling down had pretty much failed. On the Andromeda he hadn't minded too much. After all, he was as safe as one could get, he had good friends and people who were practically family. Then, next thing he knew, he was wandering around in some forsaken planet without even the comfort of technology to give him something to take his mind off things. More importantly he'd been alone.

Reuniting with the others hadn't done much to dull his fears either; they'd become distant, almost strangers, reminding him once again that, in truth, he was alone. What he really wanted was a family; people he had a tie to that could never be broken, no matter what. Such thoughts made him feel guilty, which was why he'd been avoiding the others as of late.

With a sigh he began setting out glasses as customers began to file in.

_Somewhere in the Andromeda Galaxy…the Present_

She watched him practice fighting with something akin to pride. She was dressed, as she usually was, in a beautiful flowing gown, her hair tied back in a complicated knot. A queen could not have looked more regal or beautiful, and a prince could not have matched the skills of her son.

"Enough with the sword Keary; show me your daggers."

Without a word he switched smoothly from longsword to a twin pair of daggers, his motions effortless, graceful, and deadly.

"Faster."

She commanded. He obeyed. A satisfied smile was the only acknowledgement she gave to how pleased she felt. He was ready, and the game was about to begin. Soon that strange pain would leave her; soon she would watch as the boy killed his father, and then she would kill him. Of course it would be much more interesting to watch; simply stated it had little appeal, but she near shivered with anticipation of the show that had taken years to put on.

"That is enough for now."

Crossing his arms over his chest he turned and bowed before putting them away.

"Am I ready, my Lady Mother?" He asked softly, only his eyes shining with eagerness betrayed his young age.

"Yes, I think you are." She said the words slowly and a grin spread over his face. As he stood in front of her she studied him carefully; though still young and not yet full grown, he had good looks. His hair was dark and cropped short, a few strands brushing in front of his electric blue eyes. Already his shoulders were broader than most boys, and his frame, although thin, was muscular. Fine dark clothing hid the many scars and bruises he'd accumulated over the years; some from the hands of villagers, others from Her. Only one dark bruise marred his deadly beauty; frowning, she walked over to him and touched it lightly with her fingers, yet it was enough to make him wince.

"How did you get this?" She demanded.

"When I was in the woods." He licked his lips nervously and stared at the ground.

"I don't care where; I asked you how you got it." Her voice was venomous.

"Some of the villagers…they chased me…threw rocks; I dodged most of them…" One of the few skills he lacked was eloquent speech, but she saw no reason why he should need to feel comfortable talking. She preferred silence.

"I see. And did you punish the villagers?" He hung his head.

"Ah…" She smiled cruelly and placed her hands on either side of his face, forcing him to look at her.

"Then I shall punish them for you." He didn't want her to, she could see it in his eyes; he enjoyed fighting the village boys, he enjoyed playing tricks on them and frightening them, revenge for all the years of torment; but as he'd grown stronger, instead of fully indulging his hatred and killing them, he had held back, and that annoyed her.

Staring into his eyes she used her powers to look into his memory; saw the faces of those who had chased him. Closing her own eyes she felt for their spirits…and crushed them. Feeling him stiffen she opened her eyes and smiled once more.

"There now, they shall not bother you again."

"There was no need to kill them." He muttered under his breath. Her eyes narrowed and in a flash she brought her hands away from his face, nails cutting him to draw blood.

"I killed them in order to protect you, since you failed to protect yourself." Keary stared at her, eyes wide, and she felt anger flair inside her. "Perhaps I was wrong. You are not ready yet." She turned abruptly and felt his hand on her arm, his voice pleading.

"No Mother, I am ready! Please forgive me; I don't care what happens to them! I swear I am strong enough!"

Still turned away from him, she said softly.

"If you fail; I will know. And I will finish the job for you, because it will mean you are dead." And she walked into their small house without waiting for an answer.

While he prepared himself she set about finding a way to track his father down. Concentrating on the connection she held on the boy's father, she was startled to realize something had changed. He was not where he was supposed to be; and although she had felt something in the folds of space shift roughly three years ago, she had thought little of it. To her dismay she could not find Him, try as she might. A growing anger filled her; was all her work to be for naught? Ah…but then she felt him. Or rather, not him exactly, but the presence near him that was like a brightly burning torch for her searching power. A link she could grasp and use. A pathway to his destruction.

"The game begins," Her eyes opened and she smiled with deep satisfaction.

End of Part 1

A/N: Thanks to Chica for helping me with this, and; just because I'm so nice, here's a preview of Part 2:

He looked down at his hand and felt dizzy with dismay. The golden-haired man in front of him was staring at him with wide eyes; eyes that, if he had looked closely, were his own. With a sharp jerk he pulled his arm back and the man slowly sank to his knees. _He had done It; he had completed his mission._ Smiling grimly he twisted to give the last few strikes when the sound of gunfire startled him. His daggers were blown from his grasp and he frowned.

"Get the hell away from him!" A woman hissed. He turned and, to his surprise, saw four weapons pointed at him. Something was wrong. His father was supposed to be unprotected but for his own power. Something was very wrong.


	2. Part 2

Disclaimer: I do not own any of Andromeda's characters; if I did, would I be writing fanfiction? I think not. It all belongs to Tribune…or some sort of tv company thing. Anyway, it's not mine. This is written purely for entertainment. Enjoy.

Filial Piety

Part 2

Dylan looked down at the words on the paper in his hand and frowned. Beside him walked Rhade, matching his long strides with ease.

"It could be a lucrative deal…if he doesn't try to kill us, that is." The Nietzschean said with a small smile. Dylan glanced up briefly and murmured in agreement. His attention wandered as they walked on the outskirts of the main town of Seefra 1. They were headed for the bar and looked forward to a drink after their long and dusty journey.

Just as they were passing the edge of a small forest something caught Dylan's eye. He paused, unsure of what he was looking at and Rhade stopped to wait for him.

"What is it?"

"I don't know," Dylan replied in answer. He squinted into the trees; there, a form had moved. It was a human. He put out a cautionary hand as Rhade peered forward. The figure came towards them. The men stiffened with wariness, but then Rhade suddenly relaxed with a quiet laugh.

"It's just a boy." The figure came to an open area close to them and stopped. Dylan saw that Rhade had been right; it was just a boy, a teenager, or close to that age. The way he carried himself made Dylan think he was older than he looked. His clothing was strange too. A heavy cloak, shirt, tunic, breeches, and boots made of fine material but worn by travel. His hair was dark and cropped short, the back ending at the nape of the boy's neck, the curls framing his pale angular face. It was his eyes that caught Dylan's eye and held it. They were a bright electric blue.

"You don't look like you're from around here," Rhade called out in his usual welcoming demeanor. Dylan frowned at his companion slightly and said quickly,

"Are you alone? This isn't a great place to become lost in." He tried to sound friendly but the boy stared at him solemnly.

"If I were lost I would not tell you so." This caught Dylan by surprise, and Rhade as well. Barking a laugh, Rhade took a step forward, his arms crossed in amusement.

"If you're not lost, then what are you doing out here?" The boy eyed the Nietzschean with a calm gaze.

"Perhaps the same thing as you."

"I doubt that," Dylan raised his eyebrows at the boy's words, and yet he felt drawn to the stranger.

"I am looking for someone. A man." Clearly he did not mean to elaborate more, and Dylan exchanged curious looks with Rhade.

"Are you sure you're looking in the right place?"

"Or on the right planet?" Rhade muttered under his breath. For barely a moment a flicker of doubt crossed the boy's face, and then once more he looked at them steadily.

"I am sure."

"Then you should come with us; we're headed for the city, the bar actually, and you're more likely to find whoever you're looking for there than out here."

The boy seemed to consider Dylan's words carefully, and after a minute he nodded.

"I thank you for your help." Again Dylan raised his eyebrows. The words were said with a magnanimity that made him certain the boy was not from anywhere near Seefra. Rhade was no less suspicious, for as the boy descended towards them he moved quickly to try and trip him. In one smooth motion, faster than the blink of an eye, the boy turned his fall into a roll and arose facing them; a gleaming dagger in each hand. Rhade smiled while Dylan stared in amazement.

"I would gladly buy you a drink in exchange for learning where and how you were taught such things," Rhade proclaimed. The boy slowly lowered his daggers and tucked them away, once again hidden beneath the dark cloak. He gave a slight bow, his eyes still on Rhade.

"I would be most grateful." In truth he had neither eaten nor drank for days, wary of the strange food he'd seen, and timid of talking to the alien people he'd encountered since he'd begun his journey.

The three walked in an uncomfortable silence the rest of the way. Dylan longed to ask the boy questions but had a feeling they would not be answered. He did notice, however, as they entered the bustling, dusty city, that the boy looked about him with wide eyes that keenly observed everything around him. Obviously he had not been to Seefra 1 before. So where, Dylan mused silently, had he come from?

The cool shade of the bar was a welcome relief from the hot sun. It was crowded this time of day, but near the counter Rhade and Dylan saw Trance and Doyle standing on either side of Beka, who was playing a game of cards, as usual. The two women –or rather, Trance and the android- watched Beka with a mixture of interest and boredom, the latter the most obvious.

"Hey Captain…and Rhade…welcome back." Standing up from behind the bar Harper lifted a crate of bottles onto the counter, grinning at the two newcomers, who returned his greeting with varied enthusiasm. Hearing him, the three women also looked up and smiled or, in Trance's case, waved a hello.

"I hope you've been winning Beka, I could sure use a drink." Dylan groaned with exhaustion and pulled up a chair next to her.

"I pity you, Dylan, if you have to rely on Beka's winnings for a drink." Rhade said with a smirk. Leaning against the counter he added over his shoulder,

"A glass of your finest Harper."

"Coming right up…though you'd better be able to pay this time Rhade, I'm running out of paper to write out your tab." Harper replied wryly.

"What's with the kid?" While the others had laughed over Harper and Rhade's exchange, Doyle had watched the boy who'd followed behind Dylan, and her curiosity grew as his gaze locked on Harper. Something about him made her uneasy, and she shifted to she could reach her gun with greater ease.

"Friend of yours?" Beka asked doubtfully, also eyeing the strange young person. He didn't seem to hear their words, or if he did, he ignored them, and slowly approached the counter. Harper, unperturbed by the boy's strange gaze, tossed a towel over his shoulder and grinned.

"Sorry kid, I don't serve minors." Harper joked. The boy didn't answer. Quietly Dylan explained to the others how he and Rhade had come upon him in the woods, and the others turned to look at him with interest.

"Are you, by any chance, Seamus Harper?" The boy's voice was odd, and though the words were perfectly polite, they seemed hard to speak. As one, Dylan and the others turned to stare at him in disbelief. The only thing any of them could think of to explain the unknown boy's strange words was that somehow he had met Harper during the three years when their engineer had been alone in the Seefra System.

"Yeah, that's me." Their theory was quickly dispelled by Harpers slow and obviously surprised tone.

"Seamus Zelazny Harper?" The boy's breath caught in his throat.

"Yes, why do you ask?" Blatant suspicion and curiosity was easily seen on Harper's face.

"I just wanted to make sure I killed the right person." No sooner had these words left his mouth than the boy jumped over the counter. The others hadn't made out his whisper and merely stared in amusement. Their mirth at seeing Harper attacked by a child quickly died; the boy was fast, almost too fast for their eyes to watch, and as he'd sprung over the counter daggers had flashed, with a strange black tint dimming light instead of reflecting it, into each of his hands.

Beka stood up uncertainly and wondering if she should be alarmed or if this wasn't as serious as it looked.

Harper had stumbled to the side as the boy had jumped, tripping over his feet and ducking as the daggers swung towards him.

"You probably don't recognize me," In spite of his speed the boy was not breathing hard and he spoke easily without slowing down. Harper could barely pay attention to them since he was concentrating on the daggers that were flying at him from all sides.

"But perhaps my name might mean something to you. Mother said it would." He kicked out and Harper didn't move fast enough; it sent him crashing into the wall on his back, staring up at the boy, who was at least four inches shorter than he -and who was currently moving in front of him.

"My name is Keary. Hello Father." None of this made any sense to Harper.

"Who the hell are you?" He looked for any of his friends, and saw only Doyle and Beka with raised guns, trying to get an aim that wouldn't hit Harper as well as the boy but both seeming reluctant to shoot until they knew how serious this fight was. It was hard to believe that some child would come out of nowhere just to hurt Harper.

"Strange though," Keary commented as he stood over Harper, staring down at him. "You don't look at all like Mother described," He shrugged one shoulder, as if shaking off his doubts. Harper's concern grew and he scrambled to his feet; he'd gotten out of close scrapes before, but he was rusty at it, and he wasn't used to assailants with hand weapons. Quick though he was at jumping to his feet and leaping forward to dive and roll, the boy was faster.

The sound and feel of it was different from how Keary had imagined. The squishing noise nauseated him, though he struggled not to show it. He'd had only to take one lightning quick step to be in front of the man as he'd jumped up and sped forward; unfortunately for him, right onto Keary's left dagger. Somewhere behind him somebody gasped; all else was the silent sound of disbelief. The blonde haired man slowly looked down at the dagger piercing him in the stomach. And then slowly he looked up to stare at Keary in confusion and pain.

He looked down at his hand and felt dizzy with dismay. The golden-haired man in front of him was staring at him with wide eyes; eyes that, if he had looked closely, were his own. With a sharp jerk he pulled his arm back and the man slowly sank to his knees. _He had done It; he had completed his mission._ Smiling grimly he twisted to give the last few strikes when the sound of gunfire startled him. His daggers were blown from his grasp and he frowned.

"Get the hell away from him!" A woman hissed. He turned and, to his surprise, saw four weapons pointed at him. Something was wrong. His father was supposed to be unprotected but for his own power. Something was very wrong.

The two men who had found him rushed forward, as did a woman in pink clothing and the blonde woman who'd shouted at him. He stepped back, suddenly unsure. But no; the man had said he was Seamus Zelazny Harper, and that was the name of his father, whom he was supposed to kill.

While he stood back, looking on in confusion, Doyle and Trance knelt on either side of Harper, who was struggling for breath.

"Will he live?" Beka asked with a pained expression. Trance gave her a worried look.

"We need to get him back to the Andromeda fast," was all she'd say. No one pointed out that Andromeda's med deck had no fresh supplies nor did anyone voice their doubts about Trance's ability to heal. While Rhade helped Doyle lift Harper and carry him out of the bar, Beka and Dylan stood in front of the boy with raised weapons.

"Who are you?" Dylan asked in an ominous voice. Keary stared back, keeping himself from shaking or looking nervous. His mother had told him that his father would be alone and friendless, and he had to believe that she had been right.

"What do you care?" He turned as if to leave but suddenly the woman stormed forward and shoved the point of the gun into his chest. Her face was livid.

"_I_ care you little-"

"Beka!" Dylan said sharply; they wouldn't learn anything if she killed him. But Beka didn't want to hear it. Keeping the gun point at the boy's chest she turned back to Dylan.

"Excuse me, _Captain_, but in case you didn't notice he tried to kill Harper, one of our crewmates; not to mention our friend! And he damn well nearly succeeded."

"Nearly?" Keary blinked. The woman was shaking and he had no doubt that she would kill him if she wished to, but her concern puzzled him.

"I'm afraid you don't understand," Keary made sure to hold his gaze, as his hands slowly lowered.

"I'm his son."

That seemed to take them by surprise; while they stared at him with disbelief he loosed his sword and swung it at the woman in front of him. She cursed and jumped back, narrowly missing being sliced. He dived towards the counter, not sure of where he was planning on going but knowing he had to get away, for now.

"Oh no you don't," Dylan had raced towards the door the moment Keary had moved and just managed to tackle him before the boy got away. It was all he could do to restrain the smaller figure and he was very nearly skewered. Beka came up behind him and pulled the sword away, helping to hold him down. The rest of the patrons in the bar had either left or were watching in dull amusement, but offered neither help nor hindrance.

There was a soft whir and then Beka had her gun pressed to the boy's temple, ready to fire.

"I would stay very, very still, if I were you," She hissed under her breath. Slowly she began to rise and Keary, making sure to move no faster than she did, rose with her.

"Who are you people?" Keary asked again.

"We're friends of the man you almost killed," Beka said with a hard voice.

"But that's not possible! My father has no friends!" Dylan and Beka were surprised at the bitterness in his voice and looked at one another over his head.

"Well, Harper has no son, so you must have gotten the wrong person." Dylan finally replied. Keary gave a small shake of his head but remained silent.

"Alright, let's take him to Andromeda," Dylan ordered with a shrug. Anger burning in her eyes, Beka nudged the boy forward, with Dylan walking beside him in case he tried to run.

Of the three Keary was perhaps the most confused. His mother had told him that his father was powerful; a dark and evil man who was hated by all. Instead he'd come face to face with a man hardly taller than himself, with a quick laugh and friendly smile. He could look over all that; no doubt it had been some sort of disguise, but these people claimed to be his friends. The only answer he could come up with was that they were servants of the man he'd killed and most likely their life was bound to his, which would explain why they had fought to protect him.

He felt comforted after working all this out in his mind. It made sense, and although things had not gone quite the way he had imagined in his mind for the past five years, he had completed his mission nonetheless. He had no fear of injury; his mother would come to fetch him soon, and then they would leave that wretched planet in search of somewhere more suitable.

Dylan and Beka noticed how calm the boy grew but made no mention of it. They held their thoughts and questions for a better time and place.

"How is he Trance?" Dylan paused on the threshold of the Med Deck; a sudden rush of déjà vu having come over him as he'd said the words. Trance took no notice of his hesitation; Doyle was standing over the bed on which Harper's prone form lay.

"I don't know Dylan, but it doesn't look good. There's something else that was wrong, he's suffering from something more than just a knife wound." Trance looked worried; her eyes flitted from one side of the room to the other as though searching for the answer or tool to her questions.

"He's still unconscious," Doyle said softly as Dylan came to stand beside her. Seeing his friend Dylan felt a sharp pang of guilt and worry. Harper looked devastatingly unwell; his skin was pale but yellowish and the rim around his eyes was also a sickly yellow. Although he was unaware of his surroundings, Harper muttered unintelligible words and his fingers and legs occasionally made jerking motions. The wound in his stomach was still pouring blood despite Trance's attempts to stem the flow.

Looking around the dusty room Dylan's heart sank. They had neither the medicine nor the equipment to deal with this. If that were not bad enough, this new Trance seemed even more uncertain of herself than her Purple form had been. The fact that she barely remembered Harper didn't help. And he had serious doubts about the likelihood of finding reliable medical assistance in the Seefra System.

Not that he was about to give up.

"I think it's time we asked our guest a few questions," he stated grimly.

"Did you capture him?" Doyle looked up sharply at Dylan.

"He's in the brig; Rhade and Beka are keeping an eye on him."

"Then let's go," Doyle didn't wait to see if Dylan followed.

"Let me know if he gets worse," Trance nodded at Dylan's words, a pained expression on her face.

Dylan returned to the brig to find Doyle, Rhade, and Beka all glaring fiercely through the bars of the cell at the boy sitting on the bench inside. Joining them Dylan found the boy leaning against the wall, knees brought up to his chest and eyes closed as though he was meditating.

"Has he said anything?"

"Not yet," Doyle replied, the hardness in her voice making Dylan glance at her.

"We're not going to torture him for information," He said softly under his breath. Doyle said nothing.

"What do you plan on doing then?" Rhade inquired with a tilt of his head.

"I plan on asking him politely," Dylan said, thinking the answer was obvious. Ignoring his crewmates he stepped forward and talked a little louder.

"So, do you have a name?" No answer.

"Did someone send you here?" He tried again. No answer.

"Say something you bastard! Why the hell did you try to kill Harper?" Beka suddenly burst out, slamming her gun against the bar and sending a resounding crack throughout the room. The boy looked up sharply at the word 'bastard' and turned his blank gaze to the blonde woman. Something in his eyes darkened, and for the first time since he'd been taken by them, he spoke.

"I didn't 'try' to kill my father. I did kill him."

"That's what you think! He's still alive!" Beka countered. Dylan put a warning hand on her shoulder, drawing her away from the cell door.

"Not for long." The boy said softly.

"How do you know?" Rhade asked sharply.

"Because Mother poisoned the blades. I didn't know…not that it makes a difference -there is no cure here; he will die within the hour." So saying, the anger left the boy's eyes and he leaned against the wall once more, closing his eyes. The four people standing in front of the cell, staring at the young killer, were speechless.

A/N: Thanks once again to Chica for her help and encouragement and I'm sorry it took so long to post this; hopefully it was worth the wait. I'd like to promise that the next part will come soon, but I honestly don't know. To help tide you over, here's a preview (or rather a small section of) Part 3:

Rhade and Dylan escorted the boy into one of the rooms by the Med Deck, a firm grip on each of his arms despite the heavy binding on his hands. Trance was waiting in the room, next to a table of various medical instruments and when he saw her the boy turned pale. He was tied to a chair beside the table and the two men stood behind him, guns drawn; this was more of an attempt to scare the boy into talking or revealing information rather than for actual safety. Seeing them and the effect they were having the boy, Trance frowned.

"Thank you Dylan, Rhade; I'll be fine by myself."

"Are you sure Trance?" Dylan wasn't too keen on leaving the boy alone with anyone, especially kind-hearted and innocent Trance, but she remained firm.

"Please, you're only going to make this more difficult." Her unusually assertive expression convinced Dylan she knew what she was doing, so he nodded and signaled for Rhade to follow him as they left.

"You can torture me all that you want, but I have nothing to tell any of you that I haven't already." The boy said once they had gone. His voice didn't waver but his eyes were staring at Trance with an obvious effort to not look frightened. She smiled softly at him.

"Is that what you think this is about? You're wrong; Dylan would never let anyone torture a person, especially a child."

"I am not a child," The boy said through gritted teeth. The smile on Trance's face was replaced by a sad grimace.

"Perhaps you're right. Can you tell me your name then?" For a few long moments the boy stared at her, but at last he said reluctantly,

"My name is Keary."

"Hello Keary, I'm Trance."

"If you're not going to torture me then what are you doing?" he asked as she picked up a needle and fiddled with one of the machines.

"We just need to know if you're telling the truth about being Harper's son; a simple blood test, that's all. At least," She added under her breath, "I hope it's simple."

"What will you do with me when the test proves I'm telling the truth?" Trance turned around to look at Keary before giving an answer.

"I guess that'll depend,"

"Depend on what?"

"On if Harper dies."


	3. Part 3

Disclaimer: I do not own any of Andromeda's characters; if I did, would I be writing fanfiction? I think not. It all belongs to Tribune…or some sort of tv company thing. Anyway, it's not mine. This is written purely for entertainment. Enjoy.

Filial Piety

Part 3

She was resting quietly in the small hut to avoid the annoying heat and light of day. This provided her with a chance to meditate and sense how her son was doing in his mission. Anger began to fill her as she realized something was wrong. The old pain was back and stronger, sharper, than before.

Besides that there was something else. Its father was not dead yet. He should have been by now; therefore something was wrong. Had she counted the time incorrectly? It had been quite draining to send the boy so far unnaturally across time and space. But no, there could be no mistakes her calculations and power.

Had she underestimated the child? No; he had been ready, she'd made sure of that. She was not about to let all her careful planning, paid for by pain, time, and boredom, go to waste. Uncontrollable rage flooded her body at the mere thought. At last she decided not to take any risks. Weak as she still was from sending the boy on his way she would wait no longer. She stood up and walked out the door and smiled; her timing was perfect. The sun was setting.

Rhade and Dylan escorted the boy into one of the rooms by the Med Deck, a firm grip on each of his arms despite the heavy binding on his hands. Trance was waiting in the room next to a table of various medical instruments and when he saw her the boy turned pale. He was tied to a chair beside the table and the two men stood behind him with their guns drawn; this was more of an attempt to scare the boy into talking or otherwise revealing information, rather than for actual safety. Seeing them and the effect they were having on the boy, Trance frowned.

"Thank you Dylan, Rhade; I'll be fine by myself."

"Are you sure Trance?" Dylan wasn't too keen on leaving the boy alone with anyone, especially kind-hearted and innocent Trance, but she remained firm.

"Please, you're only going to make this more difficult." Her unusually assertive expression convinced Dylan that she knew what she was doing so he nodded and signaled for Rhade to follow him as he left.

"You can torture me all that you want but I have nothing to tell any of you that I haven't already said." The boy said once they had gone. His voice didn't waver but his eyes were staring at Trance with an obvious effort to not look frightened. She smiled softly at him.

"Is that what you think this is about? You're wrong; Dylan would never let anyone torture a person, especially a child."

"I am not a child," The boy said through gritted teeth. The smile on Trance's face was replaced by a sad grimace.

"Perhaps you're right. Can you tell me your name then?" For a few long moments the boy just stared at her, but at last he said reluctantly,

"My name is Keary."

"Hello Keary, I'm Trance."

"If you're not going to torture me then what are you doing?" he asked as she picked up a needle and fiddled with one of the machines.

"We just need to know if you're telling the truth about being Harper's son; a simple blood test, that's all. At least," She added under her breath, "I hope it's simple."

"What will you do with me when the test proves I'm telling the truth?" Trance turned around to look at Keary before giving an answer.

"I guess that'll depend,"

"Depend on what?"

"On if Harper dies." The boy's form stiffened but Trance tried to give a comforting smile. At this point she was not really sure what to do or how to do it. She was simply going with her instincts to try and help a man whom once, she had been told, was a very close friend of hers. She still felt something for Harper of course; it was just more like a strange memory in the back of her mind rather than a true emotion.

"I can't help it if he dies," the words were clipped and said shortly. He laid back and stared at the ceiling. Trance ignored this comment for the moment and prepared the tools she needed exactly as Andromeda had instructed her to.

"This may hurt a little," She warned. Keary made no reply and didn't flinch when she placed the needle in his arm. Trance then placed the sample of blood into a machine and waited for Andromeda to compare it to Harper's. While she waited she glanced over at Keary.

"I can tell that you're lying, you know. You can help Harper, and you will save his life."

"Why?" He refused to look at her and his voice wallowed in bitterness. "Why should I do that? Will you threaten to kill me if I don't? I'm not afraid."

"You'll help because you're not an evil person: you're a child, a misguided one maybe, but still a child. And children don't kill their own parents." To this he said nothing and Trance had not expected him to. The test was soon complete and she gathered the results to show to the others.

"How is that possible?" Dylan's face was white as he stared at Trance dumbfounded. Rhade's mouth was hanging open and Doyle demanded to see the results herself, just in case Trance had missed something.

"Dylan's right; this can't be possible. Harper can't get a girl to look at him twice let alone…" Rhade stopped when he saw the anger on Beka's ashen face.

"It is possible." She swallowed; one hand came up to her forehead as the shock overwhelmed her.

"This is ridiculous. Harper would have said something if he had a family." Doyle interrupted.

"I don't think he knew." Beka laughed softly; desperately. "How could he of? He didn't even know her name…"

"Beka what are you talking about?" Dylan asked in a calming manner.

"I've been trying to prove to myself that Keary couldn't be Harper's son, that it wasn't logically possible. Trance's results aren't a mistake so where does that leave me? Maybe the kid came back from some weird future where things are different. That would explain a lot if I had no other explanation. But I do. A couple of days after I took Harper off of Earth we stopped at a drift; it was the first place he'd been to in space so I let him explore by himself for awhile. I left him alone in a bar…when I came back I couldn't find him. At first I thought he had ditched me, but that didn't seem like him so I got worried." She swallowed again as though the words were hard to speak.

"The bartender pointed me to a small room saying that he'd seen a blonde boy go in there with a beautiful dark woman. I had my doubts that this could be Harper, believe me, but I checked anyway. And, to my ever-lasting surprise, it _was_ him and the woman _was_ beautiful. Nothing against Harper but let's just say I found it hard to believe that such a gorgeous woman had willing chosen _him_. I thought he must have tricked her or something…but he was completely wasted; he barely recognized me. The woman was sober though and that made me suspicious. I was so angry and worried about Harper that I didn't even think to talk to her." Beka fell into silence closing her eyes as images of that long-ago night came back to haunt her.

"But why would this kid," Doyle tried to say 'his son' but couldn't form the words, "want to kill Harper? I mean, Harper didn't even know he existed."

"I think that's what we'll have to find out." Dylan replied grimly. Even as he spoke the words Trance shook her head.

"No; we have to save Harper first. We don't have time to waste on questions he might refuse to answer."

"How do you plan on doing that?" Rhade inquired sarcastically.

"Keary knows how to save him, I'm sure of it, though I don't know how I'm certain. We have to convince him to help us." The expression on Trance's face changed from puzzled to decisive and Dylan nodded in agreement.

"Alright. Any suggestions on how we can do that?"

"No," Trance answered in a small voice.

"Well I'll go talk to him. Doyle, see if you can search Andromeda's medical files; maybe there's something on poisons that could help." Doyle gave a quick nod and dashed off.

"Dylan, wait." Beka grabbed Dylan's arm when he turned to go to Med Deck. "Let me talk to him. I've known Harper the longest." Dylan studied something in her face before nodding slowly.

"Fine, do whatever you can. We'll wait here if you need help." In truth Dylan didn't know what else to do and hoped with all his might that Beka could convince the strange boy to help them cure the father he'd done his best to kill.

The first thing Beka realized was how young the boy really was. His eyes were closed and he'd made no sign that he noticed her presence since she had entered the Med Deck. She did the math in her head and felt surprised when she realized how old, or rather, not old, he must be. However he had been old enough to stab Harper and this hardened her against him.

"We both know you're awake so you might as well open your eyes." Her acid voice cut through the air. A moment later and his eyes slowly opened. He said nothing. Only the soft sound of machines _whirring_ kept the silence from being a dead one.

"Trance says you know how to save Harper." Still he said nothing. Striding forward impatiently Beka untied him with savage quickness but gave him no chance to run from her. Not that Keary would have; he knew well enough that there was no where to run to, though he was not entirely familiar with the idea of a sentient ship.

"Maybe you didn't catch my drift: you're going to help us whether you like it or not."

"Give me one good reason why I should do that."

"Give me one good reason why you felt you had to kill my friend." Beka shot back. Those familiar blue eyes made her gut wrench but the calculating way in which they stared at her were entirely alien.

"Thanks to him my mother and I are trapped on a world filled with people who hate us. It is his fault." He decided she didn't need to know more. Yet he searched for reasons and realized that he was having trouble putting into words exactly why he had been compelled to kill his father. The woman's icy blue eyes flashed and she smiled mockingly.

"Point one: Harper didn't even know you existed. Nor did he know your mother's name…he didn't know anything about her. Second point: Harper spent most of his life on a planet filled with people who were determined to crush him, and by the looks of it he suffered much more than you have. Maybe you get why I don't feel inclined to sympathy?" Her tone of sarcastic condescension grated on Keary's nerves. He gave no answer as he tried to prove to himself that she was lying.

"In fact, I think you deserve another reunion with your long lost father. But this time we'll leave the daggers somewhere else." A vice-like grip on his arm pulled him from the chair and practically dragged him out of the room. Keary's feet had become lead and although he offered no resistance to the woman he found he desperately did not want to see the blonde man –his father, again.

"There; not looking his best is he? But then he is dying after all. Too bad he's going to die without ever knowing he had a son." Her words were softer now but no less sharp. Keary stared at the floor and breathed shallowly. The room smelled of sickness and medicine and he refused to look at the prone body on the table before him.

"Look dammit! Don't you dare commit murder and pretend to be too fragile to face your victim!" She jerked his head up in a gesture that reminded him surprisingly of his mother and then all else was forgotten as his eyes became locked on the still figure before him. The poison was spreading; that much Keary could tell having seen the process often enough. Suddenly the man's eyes fluttered open and seemed to focus on the tall blonde woman gripping Keary's arm.

"Beka…" He whispered softly. Instantly the prisoner was forgotten. Beka was at Harper's side laying a soothing hand upon his forehead.

"Shh, you're going to be fine Harper. Don't talk." From venomous and hard Beka's voice had become gentle and soft. Keary didn't even think of leaving the room. His wide eyes were glued to the scene in front of him.

"What…happened…?" He tried to talk but his teeth clenched and his body shuddered. Keary mimicked the gesture involuntarily as he realized what was happening. The man was becoming paralyzed; soon the poison would spread to his lungs and he would die an agonizingly slow death. Bitterly Keary recalled how his mother had worked to perfect the poison so the death it caused wouldn't be 'boring'. And then he remembered, as the woman called out for Trance to come quickly, the small animals he'd befriended only to watch them die as his mother experimented with her arts on them. When he'd complained she'd forbidden him to eat for a week and then resumed her work –this time also upon small children who wandered, or were lured away, from the village.

The young golden woman who had been so kind to him ran in with a panicked expression on her face. The two women were talking loudly now as Harper cried out in pain. All of these things and memories Keary hadn't recalled in more than a year made his decision for him.

"I'll help you." His voice choked and the words came out a ghastly whisper that no one else heard.

"I'll help you." He said louder this time. Beka spun around with something like hope and triumph in her eyes while Trance just smiled knowingly. His heart beat faster and he tried not to think of how he was betraying his mother and all that they had worked to achieve for as long as he could remember. They gave him no time for uncertainty or doubt though. Once more his arm was caught in a solid grip.

"How do we save him?" Keary, a well of inexplicable shame building up inside him, could not meet her eyes.

"When I first arrived in the woods I noticed the different plants. Most were strange and alien, but there was one that I recognized. It's a special plant at home, which is why I noticed it so quickly. It's the only antidote I know of for the poison."

"Dylan we're going on a field trip." Beka's voice, though urgent, contained a hint of glee as well. It appeared that Harper was not going to die after all.

The trip to the woods was spent in relative silence. The trip through the woods went quickly for Keary felt an urgency growing inside of him. On the way back to the ship he mentioned quietly,

"I've never seen the poison progress so quickly in a human being before." No one said anything until at last Beka spoke reluctantly.

"Remember that place I said your Dad grew up on? It wrecked his health; his immune system probably can't even make the attempt to fight off the poison." She fell silent and no more words were spoken. Keary was growing more uncertain about his mission with each moment that passed by.

He was led back to the room where his father lay dying. Trance listened to his instructions carefully on how to prepare the plant.

"I can't promise it will work. The only time I've ever seen it used was on people not quite as far gone as he. And Mother…they were never allowed to fully recover." He swallowed and kept his gaze locked on the floor. Dylan and the others nodded and accepted his words without question.

Keary was then led back to his cell but Doyle brought him food and drink and he was left alone to his thoughts. The others had all gone to wait with Trance.

"Do you think it will work?" Beka asked softly. Her gaze lingered on Harper's still form and Dylan put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"It has to." He replied simply. He could not fathom Harper dying so he refused to believe it was a possibility.

"He's survived worse." Rhade added. "After all no other human has lived after a Magog infestation, have they?"

"Yes, but he saved himself. With help from Hohne, but still…" Beka wasn't arguing with Rhade. She was arguing with the forces of the Universe; with Fate. She was trying to convince herself, and Them, that Harper should live. She wasn't sure if she was winning the argument.

While they waited hour after agonizing hour Keary sat in his cell -alone but not forgotten.

"Mother…why did you lie to me?" He whispered. His bright eyes threatened to fill with tears but he wouldn't let them. Crying was not tolerated by Her. Unless she willed it, that is. Keary shivered and wondered why he had always believed his mother's stories unquestioningly, given her treatment of him. Was it because he loved her…or because he feared her?

"No; Mother loves me. I'm her only child. She would never lie to me without a good reason. As for everything else…I only see fault with it because I am too weak to understand Her." He told himself firmly. With that thought running in his head he wondered how he would explain his failure to her.

Some time later Trance arrived and found him slumped on the bench asleep. Her soft footsteps hardly made a sound but his eyes flew open as she approached the door. His gaze unnerved her but she smiled nonetheless.

"Harper's awake. Would you like to see him?" Keary considered her words without changing position.

"I don't think he would want to see me." Was his flat reply. Trance shook her head.

"That's not true." She contradicted. "Besides, there is much that needs to be said. I think you should do some of the explaining. You owe it to him." She said these last words softly and Keary flinched as though in pain.

"I owe him nothing."

"Surely a simple explanation is not too much to give." She pressed. Minutes passed and his unspoken answer hung in the air until Trance almost gave up. Just before she walked away Keary stood silently.

"Very well, I shall come." Trance grinned happily and unlocked the door. Keary stood looking at her.

"Aren't you going to tie me up?" With a kinder smile Trance shook her head. A suspicious look crossed over Keary's face and he stepped forward uncertainly, as if afraid this was a trick.

They found Harper awake and sitting up; he was still a deathly pale but the sickly green had left his veins and his eyes were sharp and sparkling. He laughed at something Beka said and it turned into a cough. His posture implied that his head felt almost too heavy to lift.

"We'll leave if you're tired." Dylan reminded Harper with concern in his voice. Harper shook his head adamantly.

"No way, I'm fine." He smiled as his gaze fell on Trance and then faded when he saw who followed her.

"Heh, isn't that the kid…?" His voice was hoarse; Trance nodded. Beka laid a hand on his arm looking worried.

"Harper…" She fell silent. No one knew what to say or how to say it. Harper looked from her to the others around him in confusion.

"What? I don't get it…did I miss something?"

"Harper, this is Keary." Trance offered. Beside her Keary flushed but couldn't stop looking at the man: his father.

"Keary…" Harper repeated. He in turn studied Keary's face. "You look familiar." He whispered thoughtfully. Keary looked around; none of his father's friends seemed about to offer any explanations and he felt a sinking feeling at the thought of announcing the truth all by himself. Yet that did not stop him.

"I suppose we look somewhat alike. I am your son after all." It was surprisingly easy to get the words out. But he couldn't look into his face. For some reason he couldn't bear to see the surprise and then the disappointment. These thoughts angered him; for what did he care about this man? This father whom he had never known but only heard horrid tales about? He turned his gaze back to the blue eyes that were a mirror image of his own; he stared defiantly, chin thrust out, back straight.

What he saw caught him unawares. Those blue eyes were troubled and he was frowning but not in disappointment.

"Is he telling the truth?" He asked his friends quietly. As one they nodded.

"Trance took a blood test." Doyle explained. The tension had eased somewhat but they all held their breath as they waited to see what Harper's reaction would be.

He blinked. Then he turned to face Beka.

"Who's his mother?" The bewilderment in his voice brought an involuntary smile to Beka's face and a laugh from everyone but Trance and Keary.

"Believe me Harper I was more shocked than you…" She teased. He rolled his eyes but became serious once more as she reminded him of the night, years ago, when he'd just come off of Earth.

"That's right…you didn't speak a nice word to me for a week." He recalled absentmindedly. Beka hit him lightly on the arm.

"Well how did you expect me to take it? I mean come on! I left you alone for a couple of hours and came back to find you completely intoxicated…" Keary watched his father and his friends exchange playful banter and his anxiety increased. When they burst into laughter over words he did not hear he suddenly could take it no longer.

"There; he's better and healthy once again. Unless you plan to punish me, I would ask that you let me go." The bitterness in his voice surprised even him. Instantly the jovial atmosphere vanished and Harper regarded the boy as though seeing him for the first time. There was awkwardness in his voice when he requested,

"Do you guys think you could leave us alone for a few minutes?" Dylan exchanged looks with Doyle and Beka.

"Yeah, sure." He finally said. They left but neither Dylan nor the others had any intentions of leaving Keary and Harper alone completely.

"So, what did your mother tell you about me? I mean," Harper licked his lips nervously and stared at Keary. "Why did you try to kill me?" His voice wasn't accusing but curious. It startled Keary.

"You really never knew about me…or Mother?" He asked astonished.

"I'm sorry…I wish I had. I really do." His mournful voice was sincere. Keary had to take a moment to catch his breath.

"Then the name 'Keary' means little to you?" He asked softly. Harper closed his eyes and searched his memories, finally giving an apologetic shrug.

"It sounds a little like Irish but I can't tell for sure."

"Irish?" Keary asked curiously, then caught himself, his voice once more becoming cold and emotionless. "Mother named me Keary for she said it was a name of the same language as yours. She once told me that it means 'Father's dark son.' I suppose because my hair is black and yours is blonde."

"Something like that." Harper muttered. They were both silent for a few moments. Neither of them knew what to say. Finally Keary began to explain, haltingly, about how he'd been sent to kill his Father, the man who had imprisoned him and his Mother on a backward world where they were hated and feared. Harper's eyes filled with compassion though Keary gave no details concerning his upbringing. Before he could say anything however Keary went stiff and his face turned white.

"You all right?" Harper asked uncertainly. Keary didn't reply but his lips moved soundlessly.

"She is coming." His body went rigid and he fainted, collapsing onto the floor.

A/N: Again, thank you so much for all the reviews and comments; special thanks to my Beta, Chicafrom3. You guys are all awesome (But then, you probably already knew that). Thanks so much for reading-Luna Sealeaf

Part 4 preview:

"What are you?" Harper gasped. His face was white and drawn. Her grip on the unconscious Keary's pale vulnerable throat tightened. Sharp nails broke the skin and blood trickled down his collarbone.

"What am I? I neither have nor want a name. It is enough that I am."

"Why won't you just let him go? We never did anything to you; you have no reason to kill us!" Harper protested. A wind grew around the woman. Her smile and her eyes made him stiff with cold fear. Tears stung his eyes and pain flooded through him as he struggled to look at her. He had his answer.


	4. Part 4

Disclaimer: I do not own any of Andromeda's characters; if I did, would I be writing fanfiction? I think not. It all belongs to Tribune…or some sort of tv company thing. Anyway, it's not mine. This is written purely for entertainment. Enjoy.

Filial Piety

Part 4

The pain was growing worse. She could feel it inside of her; gnawing and ripping at her body. She, who could crush a human skull with two hands, was brought to her knees by this pain. But she would make it end.

Her power only made it worse; that she could not understand. However a solution had come into her mind. The game had been played too long; things had gone too far. It was time to finish and move on. Death was in her eyes.

"Trance! Doyle! Someone, help!" Harper's voice was shouted but that didn't stop anyone from hearing him. Within moments he was surrounded by the others. Doyle was gently but firmly keeping him from getting out of the bed. Trance was gathering medical instruments, though her face had a bewildered look and she seemed to be grabbing at tools randomly. Beka helped Dylan pick Keary's still form up, moving him out of the room.

"What happened?" Dylan asked Harper.

"I don't know," He stammered, gaze fixed on the deathlike vision of his son. The words rang in his head, an unending circle. His son, who also happened to be the most recent person to try and kill him, as well as the most recent person to save his life. Everything was moving so fast and it made his head spin. Harper's head had not hurt so much since the time a Perseid librarian had downloaded the universe's knowledge into his head.

"Dylan," Trance's voice had gone shrill and suddenly the room quieted down. "Something strange is happening."

"Something strange is always happening," Dylan replied in a tired voice.

"Captain," Rhade's voice interrupted the tense silence from the Command deck. "The entire Seefra system is experiencing bizarre weather; any idea as to what the hell's going on?"

"When we have a clue, you'll be the first to know." Beka said grimly. "Trance, see what's wrong with the kid." As they carried him to a different room Harper said softly,

"His name is Keary." Doyle squeezed his hand comfortingly.

Trance was left alone with Keary as Beka, Dylan, and Rhade went to investigate what was going on in Seefra.

After a few minutes Doyle came in to see if she could help.

"Any idea what's wrong with him?" Trance shook her head helplessly.

"None. I mean, he's healthy as far as I can tell. But judging from the scars on his body, I'd say he's lucky to be alive right now."

"What do you mean?" Doyle took a few steps closer to look at Keary.

"Well by the looks of it he's had a lot of accidents. If they were accidents." Trance's compassionate gaze lingered on the boy and she brushed a strand of hair from his face, unknowingly mimicking the gesture she'd done to the boy's father countless times in the past.

"How's Harper doing?" She asked the android after a moment. A bright and cheery voice answered before Doyle could.

"The Harper is doing just fine, thank you." Both women frowned at the grinning figure in the doorway. He'd managed to get dressed and although he still looked ghastly, there was a hint of color coming back to his face.

"You shouldn't be up," Trance reprimanded him.

"I shouldn't be a lot of things." Was his sober reply. Mentally he added, _Especially not a father._ He walked over to the table where Keary lay and studied his face.

"He does kinda look like me, doesn't he?"

"Nah, he's much cuter than you are," Doyle nudged his shoulder while Harper cast a sarcastic glare. At the sound of Harper's voice Keary's eyes opened slowly. In a heartbeat he sat up and tried to get off of the bed and only Doyle's strong grasp kept him from doing so.

"I have to leave here," Keary gasped, fighting Doyle's hold.

"What are you talking about, you just collapsed."

"Please Trance, you must help me." Keary turned his pleading gaze to her.

"Help you do what?" Harper asked suspiciously. Keary cringed involuntarily before turning to face him.

"She's coming for me. Mother…she must think I'm dead. But when she finds out that I failed to –to kill you, she'll kill both of us."

A few hours later Harper, Keary, Dylan, and Beka were descending down to Seefra One in the Maru. Keary was sitting quietly on one of the empty bunks and Harper had sat with him for awhile until the awkward silence had become too much. Now he was watching Beka navigate towards the surface.

"So, uh, Boss, what's the plan?" He questioned nervously. Dylan gave an uncomfortable shrug that was somehow less than inspiring.

"She's obviously powerful but I don't think she could take on a spaceship…if we can't reason with her then we aren't left with many options,"

"Thank you Captain Obvious," Beka muttered as she prepared to land.

"I'm not hearing any suggestions,"

"Alright, alright; we're here anyway. Let's hope that playing it by ear works."

"Hey, it hasn't failed yet." Dylan pointed out, eliciting a laugh from Beka. Harper watched them with a growing anxiety. He had a scary feeling that he might lose his son before even getting a chance to know him. Although the feeling wasn't quite fatherly, Harper imagined that this must be similar to what parents felt for their children. No one else had appeared to consider how Harper might feel about the whole ordeal. Dylan, Rhade, even Trance had all acted like this was merely another strange adventure happening to all of them rather than an intensely personal situation. With a frustrated sigh he went to fetch Keary from the bunks.

The wind whipped around them in a fury, dust distorting their view. It didn't take long before Harper and Keary were falling behind Dylan and Beka, both struggling to keep up.

"Where are we going again?" Harper managed to shout.

"We're following Rhade's coordinates to where the center of the weather changes seems to be." Dylan shouted in reply.

"So basically, it's a wild goose chase," Harper muttered.

"You're friends don't know what they're doing." Keary murmured darkly. Though his gaze was steady Harper could sense his fear.

"Don't worry; they won't let anything happen to you." He did his best to sound reassuring but wasn't so sure of his success.

They struggled for a few more steps before something strange occurred. Beka and Dylan far ahead of them, the wind grew stronger around Harper and Keary before suddenly going still. The calm only reached a small diameter around them however and they stared in disbelief at the vicious sandstorm that raged only feet away from where they stood.

"What the hell?"

"It's her." Keary had gone white and Harper took an instinctive step closer to him. A shadow stepped out of the storm and into the circle of calm. Keary sank to his knees, head bowed in fear or defeat; Harper wasn't sure which one. For a moment he was too stunned even to reach for his gun; the woman –or thing- standing in front of him was so beautiful that Harper suddenly doubted that Keary was really his son. He still had practically no recollection of the night, when Keary had supposedly been conceived and wondered if she had looked this dangerous back then. She probably had; Harper didn't need to be drunk to see no more than a pretty face on a woman.

"Keary, your father is still alive. Why aren't you dead?" Despite her seemingly god-like powers her voice was no more than a normal human's.

"You were wrong Mother, he is not like how you said he was." Keary stood defiantly and stared back at her with an even gaze. Harper found himself marveling at the boy's courage. At Keary's words she laughed. Her laughter echoed and went on as Keary's anger grew more apparent with each passing second.

"You lied to me!" he shouted at her. The laughter died and her eyes narrowed.

"I'm very disappointed. The game didn't go at all as I'd planned. Still, it was nice to try something different." Keary's anger turned to disbelief while Harper watched on in confusion.

"A game? Is that all my life has ever been? Don't you care about me?" Gone was the brave warrior and in his place was a little boy desperate for his mother's love.

"Care about you? I planned to kill you since the day you first took your disgusting little gasp of life! You've been nothing but a nuisance and distraction, not to mention that somehow you've been draining me of my power!" She advanced upon them and as she did her form appeared to grow taller. Unconsciously Harper stepped towards Keary protectively.

"I don't know what you're talking about! I've never had your power!" Keary spat out, tears of rage filling his black eyes. "I never did anything to you!"

"You say that as if it matters." She replied calmly. As she came closer Harper pulled out his gun and aimed at her, moving to stand in front of Keary.

"Look, you don't have anything to gain by killing him so why don't you just leave?" His finger was on the trigger and was all but ready to shoot until her laughter rang out once more. It took no longer than him to hesitate before she swept the gun from his hands, nearly disengaging them from his wrists along with the weapon, and threw him to the brink of the circle. He struggled to get to his feet and watched helplessly as she moved towards Keary. The boy snarled and did his best to fight her but he was without a weapon and in a moment she held him in her grasp.

The expression on her face was none that Harper could identify and he scrambled to his feet in fear.

"What are you?" Harper gasped. His face was white and drawn. Her grip on the unconscious Keary's pale vulnerable throat tightened. Sharp nails broke the skin and blood trickled down his collarbone.

"What am I? I neither have nor want a name. It is enough that I am."

"Why won't you just let him go? We never did anything to you; you have no reason to kill us!" Harper protested. A wind grew around the woman. Her smile and her eyes made him stiff with cold fear. Tears stung his eyes and pain flooded through him as he struggled to look at her. He had his answer.

"Just let him go," Harper pleaded; the circle of calm was gone so that it was all he could to do stand upright and not lose his footing. Her grip on Keary's throat tightened but it was becoming harder to see them through the choking dust.

"I have waited too long and suffered too much to let either of you go!" She retorted. A sickening crack was muffled by the wind and Harper felt tears streaming down his cheek. Pain immersed itself into his veins and his vision grew dark.

"No…" He cried softly as he fell onto the mercy of the winds.

Keary watched his father fall to the ground through dimming eyesight. The face that he had once loved was contorted in hate. It was becoming harder to breathe but his whole life had not been spent training for nothing. That, if nothing else from her, had been real. Anger cleared his vision and he reached out with his own hands until he felt them clasp around her neck.

"What are you doing? Fighting back, little one?" She taunted with a pleased laugh. "I always knew you were strong; that you inherited from me."

He hadn't the strength to answer her but he had no need to. She had said something about him absorbing her power; if that was the case then he saw no reason why he couldn't use it against her. Her laughter was cut off abruptly as his grip grew stronger. She was yelling at him angrily but he couldn't make out the words. His entire universe had narrowed to the feel of his hands around her slender throat.

Awareness shifted within him and the winds once more formed a circle around the three bodies. A hunger he couldn't name grew inside of him and he knew without a doubt that he had won. Moments later her despairing screams confirmed his certainty and he managed to smile, even as he tasted blood trickling from his mouth, he smiled in relief. It was over.

"Oh my god," Beka exclaimed when she and Dylan came upon the prostrate forms of Keary, Harper, and the strange woman.

They hadn't realized that Harper and Keary had fallen behind until it was too late and they couldn't find them at all. The wind had made it impossible to contact either the Andromeda or the Maru and so they had been reduced to wandering around helplessly until the storm ended.

"Quick, see if they're hurt," Beka blinked and nodded in agreement, hurrying to check Harper's pulse. He didn't seem too badly hurt except for a few bruises and his wrists, which were bleeding heavily. She glanced up to watch Dylan kneel in front of Keary with a grim face.

The blood of both mother and son stained the ground and mingled in a pool between them. Silently Dylan stood up and straightened, fighting down his futile anger. With a sigh that reminded Beka that Dylan was no longer young, he turned and asked if Harper was alive.

"He should be fine, nothing Trance and Andromeda can't fix." She tried to sound cheerful but failed miserably. Swallowing hard she nodded towards Keary. "What about him?" Dylan's shoulders fell as a stinging sensation made Beka blink rapidly.

"Keary…stop…" Harper blinked and focused on Beka's face in front of him. She attempted a weak smile but he didn't notice.

"Hey, take it easy," She said softly as he sat up too quickly and had to steady himself against her.

"Where is he?" He would not be distracted and hardly even saw her glance toward Keary's body. Leaping to his feet Harper had taken only a few steps before Dylan stood in front of him, a heavy hand on his shoulder. To Dylan's surprise Harper's stared up at him with nothing more violent than a tired expression.

"I just want to see him," Dylan, understanding, stepped aside and watched helpless as the friend he no longer knew how to comfort walked towards the son he had barely known.

Keary's resemblance to Harper was sharpened dramatically by the blood covering his face and the dust matting his hair. Wanting to reach out and touch him, Harper instead knelt beside him and closed his eyes.

"You never explained what 'Irish' meant," The voice was weak and obviously took much more effort than normal but it was enough. Harper's eyes flew open and he stared down into the vacant expression of his son.

"Keary!" Harper was afraid to hurt him but couldn't stop himself from bringing the boy to a sitting position so he could make sure he was really alive. Behind him Dylan and Beka came forward with anxious expressions, expecting to find that Harper had gone mad with grief.

"I can't see, but I think I killed her." Keary said weakly. Dylan and Beka stared at him with astonished but glad faces.

"Yes, you killed her," Harper replied gravely despite his smile. Keary laughed softly and spit out blood.

"I came here to kill you, my father, and ended up killing my mother instead…"

"We'll save the ironic overview for med deck," Dylan stated, helping Keary to his feet. Harper casually brought Keary's arm around him so he could help him walk. Staring into his blank eyes, Harper's mouth went dry.

"What did you mean, 'I can't see'?" He asked quietly. Keary replied with a faint smile.

"I mean I can't see. When I killed –her, something strange happened to me. I felt all this, this energy I guess you could call it, running through me like electricity. Maybe it damaged my eyesight." He didn't seem all that concerned but the others were worried.

"Let's just hurry up and get back to Andromeda," Beka started moving quickly towards the Maru.

"Well Trance, will he ever see again?" Keary lay placidly on a bed in the med deck, a serene look upon his face. Harper however was not so calm and had to be told sharply several times to stop fidgeting while his wrists were bandaged. Dylan, Beka, and Doyle waited with Harper for Trance's diagnosis. She finally turned away from Keary and shrugged helplessly.

"I just don't know Harper. He may never see a thing again in his life, or he might recover his vision in a couple of hours. This is beyond me." She placed a comforting hand on his arm while he nodded.

"It's all right, I'll manage…Dad." Keary said the word shyly, perhaps not have daring too if he had been able to see. There was an indescribable freedom in his lack of sight; or perhaps it was just the knowledge that his mother would never torment anyone again.

"Well you won't have to deal with it alone," Dylan pointed out. "I mean, unless you want to go somewhere else, you're welcome to live here, on the Andromeda."

"With me," Harper added hastily. Everyone laughed at his eagerness.

"It's not like I have anywhere else to go," Keary replied.

"Yeah, that's true," Harper's excitement dimmed. "I guess you don't have much of a choice…" He looked away from Keary; his son was only staying because he had nowhere else to go, not because he wanted to.

"You're right, it's no choice at all," Keary agreed. Harper shifted unhappily. "After all, why would I want to live anywhere else? I have a parent to get to know, friends, and the most powerful space ship in the universe, or so I hear." The shyness was replaced by confidence and it spread to Harper. The others exchanged grins as he approached the bed tentatively and hugged the boy. He was a little surprised at his gesture, but not as surprised as when Keary returned the hug.

"I guess there's nothing left to say…just, well…welcome home." Harper stammered.

Everyone began talking at once but Harper added so that Keary could hear,

"I should warn you, I don't much about being a dad," Keary broke into a wide grin.

"Don't worry, I promise not to kill you." They laughed along with the others and for the first time in three years Seamus Harper felt he was at home.

The End


End file.
